


Our Happy Ending

by GrimSister21



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Growing Old Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Nothing Hurts, Older Characters, Schmoop, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimSister21/pseuds/GrimSister21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Fenris growing old together in a farm. Title pretty much says it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Happy Ending

My leg is killing me but I don’t wanna move.

The reason for that is because my husband's head is resting on my chest, his sleep is undisturbed and calm for a change. I can feel his breath, even and soft, against my torso. Aside of an occasional flick of the ear, he doesn't move. I comb my fingers through the messy white hair that’s tucked under my chin and brush it gently from his face. He’s sleeping on my bad leg, causing me pain. And I’m too enchanted to give a damn.

I mean, sure, it hurts a little. And it’ll hurt like a bitch once I actually decide to get out of bed. But for now, this is nice: just lying here and listening to his light breathing, watching that ear flatter once in a while.

We've known each other for a little more than two and a half decades now. It has been hard, but we’ve managed. Sometimes it seems like trouble is just attracted to me, and, to be honest, I’m kinda shocked he didn’t leave me by now. Any other reasonable person would. But not him, he stayed, even when I left him behind to try and play hero one more time, even when I decided to sacrifice everything to stay in the Fade, he still didn’t give up on me. Even when I came back, broken and scarred with a busted leg that likes to remind me of its existence at least once a day and no eye in my left socket.

He forgave me for that, eventually. For being selfish and trying to decide for him if he should or shouldn’t risk his life with me. But if I could do it again, I would. If being selfish means that he’ll get to live. Live and maybe love another, but truly live, then yes. I am selfish. It may have been his choice to make, but I couldn’t, and still can’t, bear the thought of letting my husband get in harm's way. Not after all those I’ve lost. Not after all that he’s been through.

He lets out a soft sigh in his sleep and I can’t help but smile fondly. The ear that’s pressed to my chest is constantly listening to the beat of my heart. I know this isn’t a conscious decision, but I appreciate it even more. I stroke his back (I can feel how he arches into the touch like a cat), and kiss the top of his head, deciding it’s time to go make breakfast.

As I suspected, my leg is bitching loudly once I free it from under Fenris’ weight. I imagine that if it could talk, it would yell at me for letting Fenris sleep on it again. The tingly feeling created due to the bloodstream, combined with the ache of the damaged muscles makes it hard to move out of his grasp without waking him up. He usually hugs me in his sleep, making sure that he can know when I’m not by his side. I know where this comes from, but throughout the years, I’ve discovered that if I simply let him cuddle my pillow, he barely knows the difference. He hugs it with all his might, taking in my scent and I feel a sting of envy at the blighted thing (Not to mention a shooting pain once I put my damned leg on the floor, stifling a scream) before heading to the kitchen.

I love indulging him. To be honest, if I could, I would spoil him rotten. My only problem is that he doesn’t let me. So I do it in small, little things: breakfast in bed, a new book once in a while, messages when his muscles ache. I wish he’d let me do more for him, but I don’t press the issue to much. I’m still incredibly happy that he chose me. Well, technically it was Anso who chose me, but still. Fenris was the one who decided to stay. Sometimes I think I must be one of the luckiest people in whole of Thedas.

We’ve departed from the role of champion and slaver killer, and are currently living in a small farm at the Free Marches. It’s nice and quiet. We have an orchard of apple trees and enough urchins from the nearby village that are willing to help during harvest. Speaking of which, I always remember to put an apple on the tray, as well as some porridge. Life has been extremely bitter for him in the years we didn’t know each other. I know it sounds stupid, but I feel like I can rectify this with sweets. Besides, I know he likes them, even if he wouldn’t admit it. I leave the tray on his nightstand and stop for a moment to admire how cute he looks,hugging my pillow like it’s a stuffed animal. Then I kiss his collarbone gently, peppering little kisses on the back of his neck.

His nose wrinkles and he frown a little in his sleep, letting a unsatisfied sound to let me know he’s not ready to wake up yet. I can’t help myself, grinning like the idiot I am. He’s so damn adorable.

I kiss his ear, causing it to twitch some more. I laugh at this.

“You’re breakfast will get cold.”

Hearing the promise to food, he opens his eyes slowly, rubbing the sleep of them. I half expect him to glower the moment he realizes he’s been tricked into embracing a big piece of plush rather than me. Unlike me, he hasn’t changed much through the years. He still is a perfectly handsome elf. He has barely noticeable laugh wrinkles around his eyes, and I like to think that’s mostly my fault. His hair is much longer now,and now is messed in an unruly manner.

I love seeing him like that.

To be fair, I have changed quite a bit: my hair turned from black to steel grey, my collection of scars has grown and I think I have new wrinkles every week or so. I personally blame my nephews, my so called friends and my brother.

He tries (and fails) to conceal a yawn. He looks satisfied, a bit dazed from sleep and oh so relaxed, so happy. He smiles at me, content. Hands reaching for my hair, pulling me down for a good morning kiss.

“G’morning.” He mumbles when we finally part, voice raspy of sleep. I can see that elusive joyful smile, the one that I adore so much, playing on his lips as he stretches. He looks at me fondly, cupping my cheek, lazily tracing one of the scars on my face.

He does it every morning.

I think he needs to convince himself this isn’t a dream. It usually makes my heart do one of those fancy assassin jumps Talis used when we first met and my paunch of a belly gets filled with butterflies as I rub my nose against his own, mimicking the way Dalish share affection. (This is something I learnt from my sister-in-law. Though I still can't tell when and if Merrill shitting with me)

I can hear his wonderful deep chuckle, a laugh I can't believe I once forgotten, and let myself marvel at my good fortune, to have this amazing, gorgeous person by my side. I begin kissing his throat, causing him to let out another low laugh. Just when things start to heat up, my stomach rumbles. He lets go and gives me another smirk. “Perhaps we should do this after breakfast?” he suggests.

“I’ll try to contain myself.” I joke.

He reaches out to the tray, placing it on his lap. I like to make sure that he eats, he tends to forget to eat when he really is invested in something. I'm used to reminding him to eat, mostly due to the fact that he spent years going hungry and ignoring his empty stomach. I stare at him from across the breakfast tray and I feel... Well, content. I can spoil this man that I love so much with a breakfast in bed once in a while, I get to see him almost every day and give him a good life that he, as a good man, deserves. He makes me happy, and I know I do the same for him.

"Is everything alright, Hawke?" he stops mid bite of toast, noticing that I'm staring at him.

"Just admiring my husband."  

His cheeks darken a little and even though I can't see them, I know his ears are turning red.

I love when that happens. It's so damn adorable.

He smiles around his toast: "Stop being stupid and eat your breakfast."

"Yes, dear," I steal a peck on the cheek before slicing the apple to quarters.


End file.
